without the Chariot, arrayed in the colors of the three
theological virtues, the object of the invocation.

"Crowned with olive over a white veil a Lady appeared to me, vestured in
hue of living flame under a green mantle." It is Beatrice, Dante's
beloved, now apotheosized in the personification of Revelation. What
other poet ever dreamed of so glorifying his beloved that for her coming
the natural virtues prepare the way, the supernatural virtues, as
handmaids accompany her to assist us to the understanding of her
doctrine, the angels sing her laudation and she herself in the role both
of unveiler of the Scriptures of the Prophets and the Apostles and the
mystical Bride of the Canticles is worthy to be called "O Light, O Glory
of the human race?"

Dante before seeing her face, recognizes her by some mysterious instinct
of love, recognizes her after a lapse according to fiction of ten years,
but in reality of twenty-four years since her death.

To Virgil, Dante turns to tell the joyous news but Virgil has gone and
tears course down the face of his disciple.

"Dante," says Beatrice, "weep not that Virgil leaves thee, nay weep thou
not yet, for thou wilt have to weep for another wound." Awed by her
appearance, he is taken back by her greeting. The mere thought of her
loveliness uplifted him in the world. The hope of seeing her carried him
through the horrors of Hell and the penance of Purgatory. Crowned and
mitred over himself he came to Eden to meet her. And she has only
reproaches for him. Particularly to the angels does she tell the story
of his defection from the high ideals which she inspired in him. "This
man was such in his new life potentially that every good talent would
have made wondrous increase in him--(but) so low sank he that all means
for his salvation were already short save showing him the lost people.
For this I visited the portal of the dead and to him who has guided him
up hither, weeping my prayers were borne. God's high decree would be
broken if Lethe were passed and such viands were tasted, without some
sort of penitence that may shed tears."

To her lover she turns for confirmation of the truth of her words: "Say,
say if this is true; to such accusation thy confession must be joined."

"Confusion and fear together mingled, drove forth from my mouth a
'Yea,'" a monosyllable of confession which showed the depth of his
shame.

But it is the sight of the superhuman beauty of Beatrice which comp